


Lift The Glass

by mardia



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-24
Updated: 2008-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 06:37:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1636865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardia/pseuds/mardia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The entire damned affair had started with the wine. It actually had started ages before that, but Tharkay was putting the blame upon the wine." Tharkay/Laurence. Spoilers for Victory of Eagles. Written as a Yuletide Treat for dex webster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lift The Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my beta, romanticalgirl.
> 
> Written for dex webster

 

 

 _Wine comes in at the mouth_  
And love comes in at the eye;       
That's all we shall know for truth       
Before we grow old and die.       
I lift the glass to my mouth,             
I look at you, and I sigh. \--William Butler Yeats, "A Drinking Song."

The entire damned affair had started with the wine. It actually had started ages before that, but Tharkay was putting the blame upon the wine. Much easier that way, to blame it upon the liquor running through his veins, than to try and trace every step that had led him to here, sitting in these tiny quarters on a ship bound for a country he'd never been to and would have no interest in visiting, if it were not--

If it were not for the man that fascinated Tharkay beyond measure and nearly beyond reason, the man who was currently staring at Tharkay with wide, shocked eyes, his mouth falling open as he tried and failed to devise any sort of reasonable response to what was clearly a complete lapse of sanity on Tharkay's part.

His tongue suddenly thick, Tharkay managed, "I--most humbly beg your pardon." Hardly an adequate response, although what would be an adequate response was...was beyond Tharkay's imagination at the moment. How on earth _did_ one adequately make amends for--

"No, I--Tharkay--" Laurence was still groping for words. There was no outright condemnation, but that would come, of course that would come, once Laurence's mind was clear from the shock and from the damned wine that had led to this disasterous mess in the first place. 

"If you will excuse me," Tharkay muttered as he quickly rose to his feet, stumbling out through the door and away from Laurence's stunned eyes.

*

It took Tharkay a few moments to realize that the pounding was in fact, coming from the direction of the door and not from within his own skull. Well. Not _totally_ from within his own skull, at any rate. 

Muttering an oath, Tharkay groaned out, "Do whatever you like, as long as you stop that pounding, I beg you." Falling back onto his tiny cot, Tharkay sat up again with a lurch as the door opened to reveal Laurence, looking thoroughly flustered. 

"Laurence, what--"

"Oh, I--I apologize, I did not realize you were still--I should not have presumed--"

"It's quite all right," Tharkay insisted, waving a hand. After last night, the irony of Laurence apologizing to him was--well, if Tharkay had been able to look at things with his usual humor, he might have found it amusing. He rubbed his face fretfully and said at last, "If you will be so kind as to give me a few moments to make myself presentable, I swear that I will be more than willing to have this conversation at your earliest convenience." That last part was a rather large exaggeration if not an outright lie, for Tharkay could happily live out the rest of his days without ever discussing the events of the previous evening, but since that clearly was not to be, he would much rather prefer _not_ looking like something brought in with the tide.

*

Even to Tharkay's eye, the sight in front of them was beautiful--hardly a cloud in the sky, a good steady wind, nothing but sky and sea that seemed to go on forever. 

However, at the moment, Tharkay could and did heartily wish himself anywhere else but here, walking along the deck beside a pensive Laurence, who so far, had said hardly a word, except to comment upon the admittedly wonderful weather.

But at last Laurence did speak. "The night before--was that--solely because of the wine?"

Here then, was the perfect excuse, and there was absolutely no reason not to take it. Except--except he was looking right at Laurence, meeting Laurence's frank and open gaze, and suddenly, Tharkay could not force himself to utter the lie. 

"No," he said abruptly. "It was not--it was not solely because of the wine." He turned away, because this part he could not admit directly to Laurence's face, and muttered, "It was not even _mostly_ because of the wine."

There was a pause that lasted an eternity, and then Laurence said, in a voice utterly lacking censure, "I see."

Surprised, Tharkay looked back to see Laurence staring down at his own feet, his expression still that of careful consideration--and more than a little bewilderment. "Tharkay," Laurence said at last, "I find myself--it is only that I wish to know _why._ "

Now Tharkay was the one left bewildered. "I confess that I am not quite clear--"

There was a slight flush on Laurence's cheeks, as he explained, "It is just that--I never thought, never suspected--"

"That was rather the whole point," Tharkay could not help but point out dryly. 

That, to Tharkay's surprise, was rewarded with one of Laurence's rare open smiles. "Well, when you put it in that light," Laurence said at last, his tone wry, and Tharkay laughed before he could think about it.

And Laurence just looked so _pleased_ , both with himself and Tharkay, that for the moment, Tharkay could let himself forget about the humiliation he'd expected to feel, and could admit, if only to himself, that the day was turning out to be quite lovely after all. 

*

Later that night, Tharkay was alone in his quarters, mulling over how in some respects, he was far more fortunate than he perhaps had any right to be, when there was a knock on the door. 

"Come in," Tharkay called out, and for the second time that day, it turned out to reveal Laurence. At Tharkay's raised eyebrow, Laurence smiled faintly and said, "I merely thought--I could not sleep and so--"

"Of course, come in," Tharkay said once more, not entirely sure of what it was that Laurence wanted, but trusting him regardless, as he had done for ages now and would continue to do. 

Laurence smiled once more and came into Tharkay's quarters, shutting the door firmly behind him as he did so. And for no reason at all, as Laurence stepped into the tiny room, as a few strands of his hair caught the light from the lamp, something inside of Tharkay seemed to lurch, without warning. He blamed it on the movement of the ship, and refused to think about it further.

*

When Tharkay's mouth met Laurence's for the second time in as many days, there was no wine to blame it upon, only Laurence, and everything Tharkay felt for him.

But this time was different than the first, and not only because of the absence of wine, but because this time Laurence's lips fell open against Tharkay's, and he sighed into Tharkay's mouth. 

And in the morning, Tharkay did not wake up to a pounding at the door, and he did not wake up alone either. 

*

"If these are to be the results of indulging in wine," Tharkay commented later, "--it is a wonder that the entire world is not filled with drunkards."

Laurence laughed at that, his face lighting up as he did, and Tharkay smiled in response--even as a part of him admitted that he was speaking no less than the plain truth. 

"In that case," Laurence suggested, "--shall I take care to bring a bottle with me this evening?" 

"No," Tharkay responded lightly. "I do not think we need it, not tonight." 

And on that score, he was proven right. 

 


End file.
